Under the Moonlit Tree
by Mystic Pebble
Summary: Frodo has a dilemma. His friends have left him their children for the night and he has no bedtime story! Oh, no! What is he going to do? *a fairy tale fic*
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note:  I don't know if anyone has ever done this.  So the summary: Frodo Baggins has a dilemma.  His friends (and their wives) have left him their children for the night because they wanted to go out to spend time with each other. Now, it's nearing bedtime and he has one problem: what sort of story will he tell? Okay, for the record, the story Frodo is about to make is a complete fiction story, so there are not so many exact facts in it.  Like Frodo, I would be making it up as I go along (although, I'm not really because I already know how it will go).   

Chapter 1

**********

It was a short time since the Ring was destroyed, and all seemed well.  Frodo has gone back to his home in Bag End and has enjoyed his serene life there.  Of course, now and then he would imagine himself back in the days when he ventured with his good friends all over Middle-earth.  However, everything is mellow, and, almost perfect.  

He sat on his favorite chair in front of the fireplace, with his eyes closed.  In a distance, he heard the hooves of a pony.  He instantly opened his eyes and realized that he must have dozed off when he noticed a book on lap.  The hooves were growing nearer and nearer.  At last, he heard a call from outside. 

  "Mr. Frodo! Mr. Frodo! Master Samwise and Rose Gardner are here with their three children!" 

The voice belonged to Olo Bolger, a young hobbit who occasionally helped Frodo around Bag End.  Frodo quickly got up from his chair and went to the door.  He opened it and found that Olo Bolger was helping Rose out of the pony carriage.  Sam was setting his children down from it.  Frodo smiled and got out of the house to greet Sam.  

  "My Sam, how are you?" he said, as he gave Sam a hug.  He took one look at the three hobbit-children and whistled.  "My, my, you three are growing like tree sprouts during springtime."

The three beamed up to him. They were Elanor, Frodo, and Rose Gardner.  All had resemblance of their father, but Elanor and Rose's eyes were of their mother.  

  "Hullo, Uncle Frodo," greeted Elanor.  "Are you going to tell us a story of old?"

But before Frodo could answer, Rose, their mother, said sternly, "Oh, no, no stories or tales of adventures that would give these kids nightmares, Frodo Baggins.  I have told Sam already of his bedtimes stories for the children and now I am telling you.  No adventure stories."

Again, before Frodo could say anything, another pony carriage had pulled up and out came Peregrin Took and his wife, Diamond.  Jumping out of the carriage without assistance of Olo was Faramir Took, their son.  He was quite like his father, both in looks and character. 

  "Unky Frodo, Unky Frodo!" shouted Faramir, wrapping his little arms around Frodo's middle. 

  "Hullo, to you too, Faramir," gasped Frodo.  The little hobbit-child seemed to take the wind out of him.  He did not notice that Meriadoc Brandybuck and his wife were also in the same carriage as the Tooks. 

  "Good evening, Cousin Frodo," greeted Merry, slightly bowing.  

Frodo grinned.  "Hullo, Merry, Pippin, Estella, and Diamond.  I see you all look dressed up indeed.  Where, may I ask, are all of you going tonight?" 

  "Well, the wife and I are going on a romantic boat ride down the River, but, first, a dinner for two on the banks," said Merry, holding Estella's hand.  Estella blushed and smiled.  Sam, however, shivered at the thought of the ride down the River.  He still disliked it after all these years. 

  "How I wish to tell you, cousin, but it is a surprise for my Diamond," winked Pippin.  

  "Ah, as I, Mr. Frodo, my Rose does not know of what surprises I have in store for her," grinned Sam.  

  "Well, if that is so, I would suggest for all of you to get going.  You all wouldn't want to be late for whatever it is you have planned," said Frodo.  He turned to Olo and instructed, "Take the children inside, Olo.  They might catch sickness standing out here in a cold night."

Olo nodded and led the children inside the house.  Frodo turned back to his friends.  "Well, anything else I should know before any of you leave? About the children, I mean."

  "Let's see," said Rose, thinking for a moment.  "Ah, you know that Frodo does not like wheat bread, only white.  Elanor is allergic to cheddar so please don't feed her that.  Oh, yes, bedtime is eight o'clock and no later than that.  Well, that's all I think, have a good night!"  
  "All right, no wheat bread for Frodo and no cheddar for Elanor.  Pippin, anything for the little Faramir?"  
  "No more sugar for him tonight, Frodo," said Diamond, with her eyes narrowed.  Pippin shifted uncomfortably beside her.  "Please, because he will not sleep all night.  Remember his bedtime and please tell him to brush his teeth but not with honey." 

  "All right," chuckled Frodo.  "Go on, all of you and have fun! Be sure to pick up these children tomorrow morning or I don't think you would be seeing them after that!" 

Waving after them, Frodo watched his friends get inside their carriages and leave Bag End.  He watched them until they disappeared out of his sight.  Sighing, he walked back to his house.  Fits of giggle greeted him as he entered.  Olo and the children were busy tickling and playing with each other.  

  "Well, this is a start of a very interesting night," Frodo said to himself. 

Please read and review! I don't own anything!   


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**********

Frodo hesitated and thought for a moment. Then he noticed the little coats that were thrown on the floor.  Sighing, he bent down to pick them up and hanged them up on the coat hangers.  He also noticed that Olo had picked up the children's luggage for the night and put them next to the coat hangers.  He walked into the living room.

  "All right, all right," he said over the noise, "that is enough for now.  Olo, can you get the luggage and put them in the guestroom.  As for the four of you, please sit still for at least a half an hour until dinner is ready."

The four looked rather flustered but nodded eagerly.  Olo went out of the living room and did as he was told.  Frodo, meanwhile, walked out of the living room and busied himself in the kitchen.  He did not notice that a little hobbit-child followed him there.  It wasn't until he was testing the stew that he noticed him.  It was Frodo Gardner.  

  "Why, hullo, Frodo.  I did not notice you there.  What can I do for you?"

Little Frodo sat on the stool next to the stove.  Then he said,  "Uncle Frodo, can I ask you something?" 

  "I'm afraid you already did.  But you can ask one more question," said Frodo, with his eyes twinkling.  

  "What are elves like?  Tell me about that elf who was with you when you ventured around Middle-earth.  Tell me about the Lady of the Wood and the places where elves live-"

  "Whoa, whoa, Frodo, those are not questions!" exclaimed Frodo, slightly laughing.  "But you want me to tell you about elves, eh?  Well, they are the fairest creatures I have ever seen.  No words can really describe their beauty but all I can tell you is that they are wonderful and mysterious creatures.  They seemed to have this ancient beauty and aura about them, most especially the Lady of the Wood." 

  "What about that elf who came along with you?" 

  "You mean Legolas?  Well, he was a brave elf, and very skillful with that bow of his, I can tell you that."  

  "What about Rivendell?  Papa always tells me about that place.  He said that once you go there, you would never want to leave."

  "He said that, eh?  Well, indeed it was a great place.  Maybe I will go there again," he said, but more to himself than to little Frodo.  He looked as if he was caught in a dream for a minute and shook himself out of it.  "Well, it is no use thinking of it now.  I will tell you what, if you promise to stop asking about elves for now, then I will tell a story about them later.  Is that a deal?  Now go on in the living room and wait for dinner."

Little Frodo nodded eagerly and skipped his way out of the kitchen.  Frodo looked after him and thought, _he is much like is father, so eager to learn about elves_.  Chuckling softly, he went on with his cooking.

*   *   * 

After the children, Olo, and Frodo were well fed of dinner, they were busying themselves in the living room.  Frodo and little Frodo were in the corner playing chess while Elanor and Rose, reluctantly joined by Faramir and Olo, were playing tea party.  All was well until the shrill voice of Elanor filled the living room.

  "Faramir Took! You do not hold the baby like that!  You hold her like this." 

Faramir folded his arms and pouted as Elanor took the doll of his hands and showed him the proper way of holding it.  

  "I want to hold it like this."  He grabbed the doll away from Elanor and ran around the room holding the dolll by the hair.  Elanor cried in protest to this and chased him around the room.

  "Faramir, give me my dolly!"  

Frodo stood up, caught Faramir, and lifted him up.  The hobbit-child squirmed and giggled under his grip.  Finally, Frodo managed to get the doll off his hands and gave it back to Elanor, who was teary-eyed but joyful that she had gotten her doll back.  

  "Tell Elanor you're sorry, Faramir," said Frodo sternly.  Faramir, who was still held by Frodo, pouted, which made him look exactly like Pippin.  But Frodo gave him a stern look.  

  "I'm sorry, Elanor Gardner," he mumbled. 

  "Tell Ms. Cuddleskins you're sorry, Faramir," said Elanor, imitating Frodo's stern voice.  Faramir gave her a protesting look.  

  "No," was all he could say.  

  "Uncle Frodo, Faramir won't apologized to Ms. Cuddleskins," said Elanor to Frodo.  

  "Faramir, tell Ms. Cuddleskins you're sorry."  

  "No, Unky, no." But after five minutes, he finally gave in.

Setting Faramir down, Frodo looked at the grandfather clock.  It was quarter till eight, almost time for the hobbit-children's bedtime.  

  "Children, is time for bed.  Why don't you all get ready?  Olo, will you please help them?"

Olo nodded and ushered the children to the bathroom.  Frodo tidied things up in the living room.  After ten minutes, Olo came out to the living room and said, "The children are ready, Mr. Frodo.  Is there anything else you want me to do?" 

  "No, Olo, that is all.  Thank you.  I will see you tomorrow then to trim that hedge at the back."

  "All right, sir.  I'll be going home now, Mr. Frodo.  Papa is probably waiting for me.  I'll see you tomorrow!  Good night, Mr. Frodo!"

  "Good night, Olo." 

Frodo walked to the guestroom where the children stayed.  He arrived to find that the children were having a pillow fight.  It took awhile for him to cease them.  And when he did, the problem struck him.  

As he was tucking them in their little beds, Rose asked, "Will you tell us a bedtime story, Uncle Frodo?" 

  "Yes, please, you promised to tell me about elves if I behaved," said Frodo. 

  "Well, what sort of story would you like me to tell all of you?" he asked.

  "A tale about a beautiful princess!" suggested Elanor.

  "And a handsome prince," said Rose.

  "Elves, Uncle Frodo, elves," insisted Frodo. 

  "Dragons! Like the one Unky Bilbo destroyed! And orcs! Lots of orcs!" said Faramir, who got up on his bed and started jumping up and down.

  "Orcs? Nobody wants to hear about orcs," said Elanor, glaring at him.  

Frodo thought for a moment.  Then as if a light bulb lit on top of his head, he had an idea.  

  "Well, how about this?  I will tell a story about all that you have suggested.  And yes, Faramir, even orcs, I think," he added, seeing the look on the hobbit-child's face.

  "Hurrah! Orcs in the bedtime story!" 

Frodo cleared his throat and began,  "In a land faraway from the Shire lived elves who dwelt on trees, for this place was called Mirkwood-

  "Elves! Hurrah! Uncle Frodo's telling a story about elves and in Mirkwood," exclaimed Frodo.  "But where is Mirkwood, Uncle?"

  "Well, it's in the east-" started Frodo.

  "Will you please let uncle finish his story, Frodo?" said Rose irritably.  "Go on, uncle, tell your story."

  "Er, right, yes, now where was I?" asked Frodo thickly. 

  "You were talking about Mirkwood," answered Rose.

  "Right, yes, Mirkwood, the Realm of King Thranduil. Long ago, King Thranduil and his wife, Queen Menetarmawen, befriended another couple, which was of a high-class in Mirkwood.  Their names were Lord Morandil, who served as a high-ranked officer in Thranduil's army, and his wife, the Lady Ainamelien. 

  "The four became really good friends and would often meet under a giant tree at the King's garden for a picnic once a week.  Then coincidentally, Queen Menetarmawen and the Lady Ainamelien both carried children in their womb.  The husbands were happy of this great news and were even gladder when the women gave birth to two beautiful elf-babies.  The King and Queen were blessed with a son, which the kingdom gladly rejoiced for.  And the Lord and Lady were blessed with a daughter.  

  "One day, the four picnicked again under the giant tree, but this time accompanied by their babies, both wrapped in the rarest elven-cloth…

(Okay, let's imagine that the room was materializing and we are now in a beautiful garden on a bright, sunny day…Okay, the italics are Frodo narrating from now and on…)

  The King seated himself on the ground carrying the daughter of Morandil, who they named Aravad.  The Lord Morandil was holding the son of the King, who they named Legolas.  The babies both cooed in their arms.

  "How beautiful this child look!" exclaimed Thranduil_._ "Why, she has your eyes, Morandil." 

He stroked the child's head, which had traces of dark brown hair.  

  "Aye, this child, however, does not look anything like his father!" chuckled Morandil, jokily_._

  "It is such a wonderful day, is it not, Ainamelien?" said the Queen_. _ "How it would be wonderful if our children would one day be witnessing this?" 

Ainamelien nodded_. _ "Aye, but wouldn't it be greater if they witness it together?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Well, what I mean was that what if someday our children wedded each other?  Wouldn't that be wonderful?  Our friendship would last through them, and so it will through their children and their children after that." 

  "I suppose that is a good idea, Ainamelien," said the King.  He looked on the now sleeping face of Aravad and muttered_, _"My Legolas and your Aravad, someday to be wedded together." 

_At that moment, the King Thranduil issued an agreement with Lord Morandil, that on their 1,800th birthday, the Prince Legolas will be wedded to the Lady Aravad.  However, no news of the betroth of Legolas and Aravad shall be spread throughout Mirkwood, until their 1,800th birthday._

"1,800th birthday?  They must be really old," said Faramir. 

  "They're immortal," said little Frodo haughtily. 

But fate has sealed the destinies of the four friends and their children.  A brutal battle against a ban of orcs left the Lord Morandil slain to his death.

  "Orcs! Orcs in the story!" said Faramir, again jumping up and down his bed.

  "Stop it, Faramir," said Elanor. 

When his wife has heard of the news, her grief for her husband had taken the life out of her, leaving their child orphaned under the care of her nurse, Ludaviel. 

  "But, Unky, I thought elves were immortal.  How come the lady-elf died?" asked Faramir.

  "They can die of grief or they can be slain," informed little Frodo, who seemed proud of his information about elves.

  "Yes, that's right, Frodo," smiled Frodo. "Anyway…"

 Soon after, the Queen departed to the Havens, leaving the King to care for their son.  Not soon after, Thranduil took Aravad under his house and let her grow up there, hoping that she and Legolas would soon develop the same friendship that their parents have had.  However, he was very wrong. 

Okay, please leave a review.  I don't own anything.  Oh, and I used some names from my other fic coz I had no time to make up more, and those are Aravad, Morandil, and Ludaviel.    


	3. Chapter 3

Since the italics don't really show when I upload, I thought I just put (Frodo:) every time he narrates, okay? Okay! 

Chapter 3

***********

Frodo Baggins gazed at the eager faces of the hobbit-children.  They were staring at him back, as if waiting for him to continue.  Even little Faramir stopped jumping on his bed and calmly sat down gazing at Frodo with his glittering eyes.  Silence had filled the room for about five minutes.  Finally it was Rose who spoke.  

  "Then what happened, Uncle?" 

Frodo thought for a while, deciding what is to happen next.  Then it came to him.

  "Well, Rose, I believe it went a little something like this: 

(Frodo:) It had been almost 1,799 years since the birth of Legolas and Aravad.  However, it seemed longer to Thranduil, for he was the last of the four friends still residing in Mirkwood. Even though he had missed his wife and friends, he had enjoyed seeing the transitions-

  "Unky, what does tramskisions mean?" asked Faramir.  

  "You mean transitions?  It means changes," answered Frodo.  

  "Oh."

  "Yes, now where was I? Oh, of course…"

(Frodo:)King Thranduil had watched the two grow up in Mirkwood.  He had witnessed his own son grow up into a strong and able prince of his kingdom.  He was tall, fair, and handsome. Many elf-maidens were rather smitten with him and would blush when he would walk by them. However, what he did not know was that Legolas was quite clever and mischievous.  Aravad, however, grew up to become a reluctant maiden.  An outspoken lady she is, Aravad preferred bow and arrows rather than combing her long, wavy brown hair, and swordfight than dancing.  Aravad was as clever as Legolas was, and would often compete with him on pranks.  

(Frodo:)Thranduil's optimism of Legolas and Aravad's relationship soon began to wear away, for the two despised each other in all ways.  Nobody knows who hated each other the most, Legolas or Aravad.  However, they knew both would go out of their ways to make the life of the other miserable as possible.  Thranduil did all he could to change the way they feel about each other, but many times had he failed.  Then a wise wizard by the name Mithrandir told him this:

  "Let time pass and they will both come around, Thranduil."  

(Frodo:)And so-

  "That's it?  That's what the wise wizard told the king?  Well, it's not much of an advice, is it?" said little Frodo dryly.  

Frodo paused for a moment.  "Well, maybe he couldn't come up with a better words of wisdom.  As I was saying…"

(Frodo:)And so Thranduil followed the wise-er- the words of Mithrandir and desisted in trying to make the two like each other.  

  "Where's the good stuff, Uncle?  When are we going to hear about the handsome prince falling in love?  And-and all the true love things?" asked Elanor impatiently.

  "Ew, love, yuck," commented Faramir.  Elanor's eyes shoot like daggers at him.  He grinned innocently.  

  "Well, we're a bit edgy, are we, Elanor?" chuckled Frodo.  "Hold on and I will get there.  Just be patient.  Now let see…Oh, yes…"

(Okay, let's pretend again that everything is dissolving and we are now in a beautiful bedroom with a sleeping young woman, or she seems young.  The sun bathes the room, and well, you can imagine the rest…)

(Frodo:)The beautiful, white bed was submersed in sunlight, making it glow and shimmer in the morning light.  The hangings and bed sheets were made of white, thin cloths.  On the bed, lay a sleeping maiden. Her eyes opened and stared faraway as if in some distant dream.

(Zoom back to the hobbit-room)

  "Elves sleep with their eyes open!" said Faramir loudly.  "That is very strange, Unky! Do they breathe through their mouths?  Do they talk with their nose?"

  "Would you shut up, Faramir?"   

(Frodo:)Her features were fair and young but do not be fooled by this innocent countenance, for she was Aravad, a mischievous elf-maiden.  Her long, flowing hair was spread throughout her pillow.  She turned over and the sun's rays hit her face.  Immediately, she jerked awake and with blind panic, rose up from her bed and ran to her nurse's chamber.

  "Ludaviel, Ludaviel!" she called, running up to an elf, who was already dressed for the day.  "Why have you not woken me up?!  Now I am truly late for breakfast!" 

  "Well, I was waking you up earlier but you muttered something and began to snore again.  I tried and tried to wake you up but you continued to snore!" said Ludaviel irritably.  "Now I drew you a bath, but seeing as you are late again, I will get a basin for you to wash up on."

Ludaviel disappeared to somewhere and came back carrying a stone basin and a towel.  Aravad quickly approached her and placed the basin on a table.  

  "Ugh! It is cold!" she exclaimed as she splashed the water on her face. 

  "It was warm earlier.  But that is what you get when you wake up late, very cold water."

  "Well, there is no time to lecture."  Aravad went behind her divider and got dressed hastily.  "I am late for breakfast."  

She sprinted out of her room and down a bridge leading to another huge tree.  She climbed down a long ladder and again sprinted across a gap between tall trees.  At last, she arrived at the Great Hall of Mirkwood, where many had already seated and were dining.  She stopped in front of the long table and composed herself.  Walking lightly, she drew nearer to her seat on the table.  King Thranduil looked up from his plate and stared right at Aravad.

  "You are late," he said, without any tone of anger or impatience.  "Why are you late?"

Aravad stopped dead on her tracks.  Everyone in the Hall had stopped eating and was now looking at her.  Even Legolas looked up from his plate and smirked. She could tell that he loved her humiliation.  She took a deep breath and said,  "Well, sir, the way I see it is that we are elves.  As elves, we are immortal, meaning that we are immune to death in certain conditions.  So, I believe that…we have plenty of time to spend here on this land before we past to the next.  Therefore, we have plenty of time to spend say like being late for breakfast or any meal of the day."     

Many murmurs came around the table.  Legolas gave her a confused look.  Aravad smiled weakly at the king, who seemed to be trying to catch what she just said.  Finally, he laughed.  

  "Well, that is quite true," he chuckled.  "You have a good point there, Aravad.  Very well, come and eat, while we still have time!"  Everyone around the table laughed at his joke.  Aravad gave a sigh of relief and sat to the left of Thranduil.  She gave Legolas a satisfied look while she sat down.  

*    *    *

  "That was the stupidest thing I have ever heard!" exclaimed Legolas, catching up to Aravad.  They were heading down to the gardens for their lessons.  

Aravad rolled her eyes and stopped.  "I don't remember asking for your opinion, Lego-ass.  I'd appreciate it if you would just shut up."

  "We're a bit touchy this morning.  Are we having PMS, Arse-avad?" 

  "You are such an-"

Suddenly, her nurse, Ludaviel came hurrying up to them.  "Don't you dare say those next words, Aravad.  I swear I don't know where you learn those words.  I am reckoning that you are hanging around those guards at the watchtower way too much." 

  "Well, if the gloves fit on him, why not wear them?  Besides, Lego-ass here also needs a few teachings about proper language." 

   "Oh, very funny, Aravad.  You are so witty.  I bow to your cleverness.  Hail the Lady Aravad, Queen of wit!" exclaimed Legolas, bowing to Aravad.  

She glared at him.  "Dimwit," she said through her clenched teeth.

Legolas tried his best to look hurt but failed.  He frowned and said, "Moron."

  "Butthole."

  "Freak."

  "Pig."

  "Idiot…"

(Zoom back to hobbit reality)

  "…Crap factory, butthead, twig-legs, turdbreath, nerd, dumbbutt, numbskull…"

Faramir was again jumping up and down his bed and waving his hands in the air.

  "Stop it, Faramir!" said Elanor, over his noise.  She folded her arms and pouted.

  "Yeah, you're so immature," said Rose hotly.  Faramir stuck his tongue out at her.  They then began to argue.   

  "Then what happened, Uncle Frodo?" little Frodo inquired over the noise.

Frodo, who was in deep thought, came back to reality and stood up to lay Faramir down again. He tucked him back to his bed and returned to his chair. He cleared his throat...  
(Zoom back to fairyland, I mean Mirkwood :-D)  
"You are a lousy piece of horse manure, Legolas Greenleaf! Hmph!" 

She turned from him and strode towards the entrance of the garden.  It was a huge garden filled with tall trees whose leaves shaded the ground from the sunlight.  Flowers of many colors swirled around the garden, creating such a beautiful sight.  A small brook was flowing at the left side of the garden.  Stone benches stood in front of it.  This was where the lessons were to begin.  Aravad found her usual seat, which was at the far right side of the brook near the heart of the garden.  The professor was already there, and his name was Master Enedrion.  He was as ageless as the king, but his hair was dark (unlike the king's golden tresses) with streaks of grayish white.  Hew as from Rivendell and agreed to tutor the two.  He had been teaching them since they were wee little elf-children.  As Aravad sat down, she noticed that he was far too busy to notice them arriving.  Finally, he looked up from his reading material and smiled.  

  "Well, well, are we ready to learn today?" he asked eagerly.  But they remained silent. "Then let's begin shall we?"

For the first few hours of the lessons, Master Enedrion bored them with the history of elves in Mirkwood.  This would normally amuse Aravad, for she loved to hear about the Simaril and of the great battles fought during the Elder Days.  However, this time Master Enedrion was lecturing about the habits of elves in the forests and something that was completely dull, for Aravad was no longer listening.  While Master Enedrion was reading from a parchment, Aravad looked around.  Legolas was seated next to her.  His eyes half-closed.  He had looked as if he was ready to fall asleep because he was staring far away.  She then turned her attention on the ground.  A twig was there.  Smiling to herself, she thought of something.  _Why not wake Legolas to get him in trouble_, she asked herself.  She picked it up but hesitated to make a move.  Instead, she balanced the twig between her nose and upper lip.  She seemed very amused with herself but then-

  "Aravad!" It was Master Enedrion, who looked both angry and stern at her.  "I am quite disappointed.  You are usually so eager to learn about elven history.  You should be more like His Highness, Prince Legolas.  Look at him. He is so studious. 

He turned to look at Legolas, who was sleeping.  His head rested on his hands, and his eyes were staring far away.  He was on the edge of his bench.  

  "Prince Legolas!" called Master Enedrion loudly.  Legolas jerked awake, fell off his bench, and landed on the ground next to it.  Aravad tried to stifle a laugh, but gave up and burst out laughing.  

  "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Your Highness.  You will take up the throne after your father. And what will happen when you do?  Sleep in front of your royal subjects?" His eyes flashed dangerously at Legolas.

Aravad couldn't help it anymore.  She was in fits of laughter.  Master Enedrion then turned his attention to her.  

  "And what about you, Aravad?  What does fate have in store for you?  Will you let His Highness sleep on his job?" asked Master Enedrion. Aravad fell silent and confused.

  "Why would I care after Legolas?" she inquired.  Master Enedrion, realizing what he just said, dismissed both of them for the day.  As Aravad gathered up her things, she thought of what the Master just said.  _Why would she care for him, Legolas, her mortal enemy_?__


	4. Chapter 4

Need I remind all that this is a very fictional story. 

Chapter 4

************

The hobbit-children stared at Frodo with wide eyes.  None of them moved, which made all of them look like stone statues.  Frodo looked at the clock on the wall.  It was fifteen minutes past eight o'clock.  

  "My goodness, it is way past your bedtimes.  I will continue with this tomorrow," he said, getting up from his chair.  Loud protest immediately came from the children.

  "You have to finish it, Uncle!"

  "Yes, what happens to Prince Legolas?"  
  "Yes, yes, you have to tell what happens to him!"  

  "Dragons and orcs! Dragons and orcs! Dragons and orcs, Unky!"

  "All right, all right, but I must inform you that I gave my word to your parents that I have you sleep at exactly eight o'clock.  As you can see, it is way past that hour."

  "We promise to keep quiet if you continue.  Please, _please_, Uncle Frodo," begged Frodo.  
  "Yes, don't stop while it is getting really exciting," piped up Rose.  All of them looked at him with their lips pouted. 

Then Frodo said, "All right, how can I not resist those looks? I will continue under this condition: you will not tell your parents I have you stayed up so late in the night.  Is that a deal?"

  "Deal," said the four in unison.

  "Wonderful, in that case…"

(And we're doing that zooming thing again…)

(Frodo:)Aravad and Legolas went their separate ways after the lessons.  Aravad decided to head towards the main gates of Mirkwood to visit her good (if not, best) friend, Caradir.  He was one of the noble Captains of Mirkwood and the only one who can tolerate Aravad, for he was kind and considerate.  In other words, he was a perfect gentleman-

  _"Don't you mean gentle-elf, uncle, he is after all an elf," said Rose_. 

 _ "Oh, yes, how silly of me…"_

(Frodo:)-a perfect gentle-elf.  She arrived to find him standing on the wall of the gate and aiming his bow at something towards the woods away from the borders of the kingdom. Caradir was standing with is back towards her, and his long, golden hair shining against the sun.  He was tall and strong with a stature of a noble captain.  She smiled evilly, climbed up to the wall of the gate, and leapt next to him.  

  "Good day, Caradir!" exclaimed Aravad.  He jumped in surprise and accidentally fired his arrow at the wrong place he intended it to be.  It soared to the small camp outside of the gates, where soldiers were busy working.

  "Watch out!" he called down to the soldiers.  Then there was a huge commotion as the soldiers jumped out of its way and causing things to spill, break, and topple over.  

Aravad stared in amazement at what she had done.  She blushed deeply and muttered, "Oops."

Caradir sighed.  "And a good day to you too, Aravad.  Let me guess, Master Enedrion had let you out early again?"

Aravad nodded.  "Fell asleep in boredom.  It was not my fault the lesson was so dull."

 "I'm sure it wasn't," muttered Caradir.  He got down from the platform and climbed down the ladder of the wall.  Aravad followed him eagerly, for he was like a big brother to her.  They both started walking away from the gates.

  "Well, it really wasn't.  Legolas fell asleep and Master Enedrion got mad at him.  It was rather odd because he had made it seem like I should care for Legolas so much."

  "Did he now?  He hasn't said anything to you, has he?" asked Caradir, with the utmost concern that made Aravad think that something was not right.

  "No," she said slowly.  "Should I know something that I'm supposed to know of?" 

Caradir's face lightened a whole lot.  "Nay, not anything that I know of."

  "Well, in that case," she said, still doubting his words, "guess what?" 

  "What?"

  "I have been practicing archery for some time now," said Aravad excitedly.

Caradir suddenly stopped walking.  He turned to look at her.  "Oh, Aravad.  Have I not told you to stop?  You're only going to get yourself hurt and in trouble.  Besides, maidens are not fit to hold bows, especially for someone as clumsy as you," he added with a chuckle.

  "I'm not clumsy," said Aravad indignantly.  "I'm really getting good, honest!  I mean I know that the pointed end of the arrow does not face you but the other way.  And you don't practice near anyone.  Come on, Caradir, you have to teach me again.  I promise I will do a better job."

  "It's not that easy, Aravad.  What if we get in trouble from the king?  Worst, what if I get stripped of my rank?  I have worked very hard to earn my title.  Many years, Aravad, many _long_ years, and I am not going to just throw that away for a lesson worth of archery for a maiden forbidden to hold any sort of weapon."  

Caradir continued to walk faster.  Aravad struggled to follow at his heels.  Both did not know where in Mirkwood they were going.

  "I beseech thee, Caradir," wailed Aravad. "You have always told me how females and males should be treated equally.  Well, here's that chance for you to accomplish that.  Caradir, please, it is not like we will practice at the town square or anything of that sort.  Besides, I am sure that my _father_ would have wanted me to.  King Thranduil has always told me that my father would have wanted me to learn how to defend myself.  'I will not have a child that would grow up always in distress,' he would tell me.  You wouldn't ignore my father's wishes now, would you?  My _deceased _father?" 

Aravad knew that Caradir had some soft spot for anything that reminded him of her father.  She just figured it was because he admired him dearly for Morandil was renowned in Mirkwood.  She watched as he slowly came to a halt and turned around to face her.  No expression was on his face, which, to Aravad's guess, meant that he did not want her to know what he was thinking. Finally, he sighed, 

  "Oh, all right.  I shall teach you." 

Aravad squealed with excitement and ran up to embrace Caradir, who looked a bit taken aback by being squeezed by a maiden.  Not that this has ever happened to him before.  No, he was quite the lady's elf, but it was different-it's Aravad. 

  "Thank you! Thank you very much! Oh, you will not regret this! I promise I shall not let you down," she said somewhere around his chest. _Why do I have a feeling it would be unlikely_, he thought.   

As Aravad had let go of him, Caradir thought for a moment.  Then he took her hand and said, "Come with me."

He led the way to an empty glade very far from the heart of Mirkwood.  There, he told her to stay where she was and quickly left to somewhere Aravad could only guess.  After a while, he came back bringing things such as fruits of different kinds, sacks filled with dirt, and many other things.  He had set them up so that they were all on top of logs.  

_  "Why would he do that?" asked Rose._

_  "So they're set up like targets, silly," said Young Frodo._

_  "Did they use hobbits as targets, Unky? Elves, did they, huh, Unky?"_

_  "Faramir! Why on earth would they do that?" exclaimed Elanor, giving him a look of repulsion. "That is an outrage! Not to mention quite terrible!"_

_  "Would they use Elanor as a target, Unky?" _

_  "I'll show you who's the target."_

(Frodo:)Lastly, Caradir disappeared again and came back, this time, with an elven bow and a quiver of arrows.  

  "All right, this is my bow and arrows.  Handle them with care," he explained as he held it out for her.  Aravad reached out to get it from him but he would not budge. 

  "Er, this is where you let go, Caradir," but there was a slight struggle.  He still looked very hesitant.  "Honestly, do you want to do this or not?"

Finally, he let go.  "All right, now, how far did you get by learning archery by yourself?"

Aravad thought for a while.  "Not much, I basically just aimed at things."

  "All right," he said slowly.  "Well, then, I have got a lot to teach you.  But first, let me test your aim.  See that sack right there?  Go ahead and shoot at it."

Aravad did as she was told.  And to her surprise, her shot was pretty good.  

  "Excellent, now try that apple over there."

  "There?  But it's very far."

  "Just do it."

She put another arrow on the bow and was ready to fire when Caradir said,

  "Be careful with that deer right there!"

  "What deer?" 

Everything seemed to have happened very fast.  First, Aravad turned around so that the arrow was pointing directly at Caradir.  Caradir, thanks to his magnificent elvish instinct, ducked quickly to avoid the arrow from sending him to the Halls of Mandos.  Then this arrow shot far through the air and into a bush, where, moments later, a loud yell of pain was heard.

  "Oops," muttered Aravad as they ran towards the direction where the arrow went.

*    *    *

(Frodo:) Now, Legolas made his way-

  _"Uncle, what happened to the person who got shot?" asked Elanor.  But Frodo only smiled.  _

  "You'll find out soon."  With that, he went on- 

(Frodo:) he made his way deeper into the gardens, humming merrily along.  He stopped to observed the beautiful flowers along the way.  He thought for a moment and decided to pick a few of them, very color of each kind of flowers. For you see, Legolas has a secret.  And this secret was that he currently courting a beautiful and graceful maiden by the name of Criselda.  However, since it was a secret, the citizens of Mirkwood quickly learnt of this news.  King Thranduil, who still had hopes for Legolas and Aravad, was oblivious to this news and considered it as a mere rumor.  The fact was that Legolas was convinced that he was in love with this maiden and was considering choosing her as his wife.  

  _"Wait, Uncle, that can't be.  He can't marry that Criselda.  I mean he's meant for Aravad."_

  _"Just let him continue his story."_

(Frodo:) What he did not know was that even though Criselda was a beautiful and graceful as she was in the outside, she was snobbish and conceited in the inside.  The only one who knows this was Aravad, for aside from Legolas, she loathed Criselda.  Criselda shared the same interest to her.  She thought that Aravad did not have right to live in the King's court, for she was just an orphan whom the King felt sorry for.

(Frodo:) After his lessons, Legolas had agreed to meet Criselda at the gardens.  She had told him that she had a special day planned for them.  Whatever it was, Legolas could just imagine impatiently.  At last, he had caught sight of a maiden waiting under a tree.  She was dressed in a long, glimmering, and lavender dress.  Her long, golden hair flowed and shined against the sunlight.  She looked more beautiful than ever.  Legolas's heart leapt with joy by the scene he was just witnessing.  Criselda saw him and walked quickly towards him.

  "Oh, Legolas, I have been waiting for you," she said.

  "I apologize for making you wait for long, love.  Here, have this bouquet of flowers as a token of my sincerest apology," he said as he presented the flowers he picked in front of her.

  "Oh! Legolas, they are beautiful!" she exclaimed in utter delight.  She took them from his hands and smelt them.  "And they smell divine."

  "So, what is the surprise that you have for me?" asked Legolas knowingly.  

  "Aye, of course, I almost forgot.  Well, close your eyes and come with me," she answered alluringly.  She took him by the hand and led him deeper into the gardens to a small clearing.  In the clearing, there was a blanket spread over the ground with a basket on top of it.  "All right, here we are.  Now you can open your eyes."

Legolas stood open-mouthed at the blanket laid on the floor and the basket on top of it.

  "Surprise," whispered Criselda near his ear. "What do you think?  Do you like it?"

  "I love it," he said as he turned to face her.  "And I love you."

  "Oh, and I love you too.  Now let's eat." 

They sat down on the blanket to eat.  Criselda opened the basket to reveal the parcels inside.  She laid them down on the ground.  

  "One question I must ask from you, love," said Legolas, "how did you know that I absolutely love picnics under the shades of trees?"

However, Criselda simply grinned and said, "Well, I have my sources and I don't tell who they are."

Legolas laughed softly.  "Well, aren't we a tease?" he said playfully.  He leaned over to kiss her but accidentally spilled a goblet of wine on the blanket and some on him along the way.

  "Oh, dear, here let me help," said Criselda.  

(Frodo:)Legolas got to his hands and knees to help Criselda clean up the massive stain on the blanket.  A soft whooshing noise came towards them.  Then all seemed a blur as Legolas felt an immense pain at his, er, lower back area- 

  _"You mean his bum? Uncle, come on, I am turning ten next spring.  I think we're pretty old enough to hear those kind of words," said Young Frodo. _

_  "Yeah," agreed Rose and Elanor together._

_  "Yeah, Unky, so you can say bum or butt or heinie, tooshie, behind, bottom, ass-"_

_  "All right, that's enough, Faramir," warned Elanor._

(Frodo:) Anyway, he felt pain at his bum.  He turned to see what it was and then gave out a yell of pain.  An arrow was sticking out of his, er, behind.  He felt as though he was dying and everything became blurry to him.  The last things he heard were the frustrated reassurances of Criselda as he completely blacked out and a rustling of the bushes nearby.      

I don't own anything.  Not even Criselda, coz she owns herself.  Hello starfish! 


	5. Chapter 5

On with the show.

Chapter 5

**********

"I do hope that 'tis only a deer," panted Aravad, running behind Caradir as they followed the direction of the arrow. "Why must you say that there was a deer?"

"I was examining your reflex. Obviously, you lacked of it!" 

"Why did you not say you were to examine my reflex? 'Tis MY reflex, you must ask permission before you can do anything to it!"

They were silent for a moment as they continued to jog. Then Aravad heard Caradir's mutterings indistinctively. She caught a few phrases like "the King will have my head" and "the shame of all my kins." Her spirits sank low. It was all her fault. She had to sway Caradir to teach her archery. It was so imperative to prove to everyone that she was not just an orphan living in the King's house. `Twas my selfishness, she thought. This was entirely my fault. And if it was just a deer, it was still Caradir's responsibility, as it was his bow and arrow. The King would punish him for sure. If her spirits could have sunk any lower after this, it did. 

At last, they reached the bushes where the arrow had gone. They heard whimpers behind it. The bushes reached up to Aravad's neck, but it was difficult to see over the other side. They halted, and Caradir, cast one last glance at her, went behind the bushes to aid the poor creature. Her eyes followed Caradir anxiously and saw that the colors on his face drained as he stared upon whatever it was in the other side. He quickly disappeared, leaving her marveling alone. She gulped and slowly followed Caradir's trail. A sobbing noise grew louder and louder as she got closer. 

"Don't fret, he is still alive," she heard Caradir's reassurance. She halted for a moment and peeked out from behind the bushes. Caradir was bent over an *gulped* unconscious body, his hand checking the body's pulse.

"Someone shot an-an a-arrow out of nowhere!" sobbed a voice. Aravad recognized that voice. She walked closer and found Criselda sobbing in front of Caradir. "Who could have done such a deed?"

Realizing that she was still holding Caradir's bow and quiver, she threw them behind the bush and walked next to Caradir. 

  _"Ah, so it WAS Aravad who had shot Legolas!" ___

_  "Thank you for pointing out the obvious, Rosie."___

"Well, he is unconscious for now, but he will be all right," continued Caradir.  "The wound is far from his heart."

"I must say! It has to be a foiled assassination attempt!" exclaimed Criselda, eyes still brimmed with tears.  "Someone wants the Prince dead!"

"Please," scoffed Aravad, still standing over Caradir, "an assassination attempt? Who would want Legolas dead?"

At these words, Criselda had stopped crying and raised her left eyebrow, "Do you really want me to answer that question?  Anyway, I have every right to think so.  The arrow used here was clearly Silvan.  Moreover, the ones used by a soldier... " she had trailed off and looked at Caradir and then at Aravad and back, as if piecing something together. 

"Ah, the arrow had dug deeper through his, erm, bottom than I thought.  I cannot get it out without hurting the Prince," said Caradir, standing up.  "We must get him to a healer.  I know one that lives close here.  Quickly, you must both help me."

"Nay, Caradir!" exclaimed Aravad. "You do not know how Legolas weighs! Why, he could weigh as heavy as an oliphant!"

"You have not much choice, Aravad," said Caradir sternly.  "After all, you are part of this incident as much as I am."

"I wonder," said Criselda, "of all places you two could be in but you were just a few feet away from here during this incident.  It was as if you two are-"__

"Oh, do stop that sentence before you complete it.  What are you implying? That I had something to do with all this?"

"So you admit it, eh? You have planned this with Caradir as your associate!"

"That is nonsense! I would never kill anyone, even if it were someone like Legolas.  I shall never claim a life." 

"Ladies, please, stop bickering.  It is imperative that we bring His Highness to the healer." 

"Will my darling Legolas die?" 

"No, of course not.  Aravad, please retrieve my things from behind that bush.  No one must see that we are carrying an unconscious prince.  It would draw far too much attention.  We shall carry him in this picnic cloth.  I reckon it shall hold.  Now, the both of you help me carry the cloth at either end.  Carefully now, we do not want to drop him." 

With that, Aravad gathered Caradir's bow and quiver of arrows and hoisted them on her back.  Taking the right side of the cloth, Criselda held the hand of the sleeping prince, and they all set out, with Caradir in front, to the healer's house.  Aravad walked silently behind Caradir and tried as much as possible to avoid contact with the Prince.

_  "I have one question, Uncle."___

_  "What is that, Frodo?"___

_  "Has Criselda found out that it really WAS Aravad who shot Legolas?  Because if she hasn't, then this lady is not really all complete in the head, if you know what I mean." ___

_  "Frodo! Save your questions and analysis till after the story."___

_  "Analsis, Elanor, big word." _

Criselda looked back at the clearing.  The basket full of food and flowers and utensils and such were scattered all over the ground.  Pity, such pity, she thought, to waste all that food and preparation for nothing.  I swear if I ever find out who had shot my poor, defenseless Legolas, that person shall never see light again.  She looked at Aravad and felt a swell of anger, for she knew that somehow Aravad was involved in this.  Any ill tidings occurring under the house of the King, Aravad must be involved in all of them.  Criselda noticed a glint of feather in the sun at the back of Aravad.  She looked closer and noticed that the same shimmering feather matched with that found on Legolas! She gazed at the both feathers and concluded that they were alike.  Suddenly, anger fumed at her chest, and her lip quivered uncontrollably.  

"You! You did this to Legolas! I knew it! You cold-blooded killer!" she shouted and pointed at Aravad.  She almost lost grip of the cloth.  They all stopped abruptly.

"Milady, what are you talking about?" inquired Caradir. 

"Aye, what ARE you babbling about? I am not a killer.  Haven't we established that back there?"

"The arrow on Legolas and those arrows on your back, they are the same.  Do not tell me you had nothing to do with this because the evidence is clear.  When the King finds out about this, which he will, I will make sure that you never live in this kingdom or any elven kingdom ever again!" 

Aravad turned pale.  "Now, Criselda, do not get irrational.  `Twas an accident, I did not mean to shoot the arrow on his ass.  Honest!  Don't jump into conclusions."

"And how can I not?  Valar knows that you harbor great amount of hatred against the Prince.  How could we not know you are not capable of terrible things?"

"Milady, please, you must desist. You are in distress. Let us just get the Prince to a healer first then those who claim responsibility claim them later.  We must go on."

All were silent for quite some time and continued to walk towards the healer's house.  Again, Criselda had broken the silence by saying, "And what if the arrow was poisoned? Oh, we must go faster!" 

"For pity's sake, Criselda, there is no poison, no foiled assassination attempt, and no boiling hatred for Legolas!" exclaimed Aravad.  "Well, maybe some boiling hatred for Legolas, but none of the other ones, I swear." 

*          *          *

At last they have all reached the healer's house without drawing attention from the citizens of Mirkwood.  They had struggled to climb up the stairs to the healer's house.  Panting, heaving, and sweating, the two ladies and the unconscious Legolas finally reached the house. Caradir already headed before them to summon the healer.  Criselda knocked on the door and was greeted by the healer's wife.  With the aid of the healer's wife, the sleeping body was placed on a feather stuffed bed with beautiful, golden hangings and carved wood headboard and bedposts.  Legolas lay on his chest while the healer's wife went behind a curtain to get her husband.  Criselda pulled up a chair and sat next to Legolas, with her hand on his.  Aravad paced up and down the room and fiddled with her fingers, occasionally glanced nervously at Legolas.  Finally, Caradir and the healer had entered the room and went over where Legolas lay.  

"Hmm... I see, yes, hmm..." examined the healer as he looked over the arrow.  "Definitely deep, yes, definitely.  And how did you say this happened?"

Aravad opened her mouth to answer, but Caradir spoke first, "Erm, I had missed the target during a training session.  Clearly an accident that I take full responsibility of."

Aravad made a small noise at the spot she stood.  The healer eyed Caradir for a full minute and said, "Well, of course, as you know, the King must be notified of his son's condition.  As for your state, Caradir, I, of course, have no idea what will be next.  As of this moment, a messenger has been sent to inform the King of the Prince's situation."

"Will you take the arrow out any time soon?" inquired Criselda impatiently.  "I think he suffered more than he should."

"Well, milady, I can certainly tell you that he would not die of this arrow.  The arrow is too far from his heart or vital organs.  As soon as I take it out, he will be good as new.  Morianas, my arrow remover, please, if you will."

Morianas, the healer's wife, handed him a large pliers.  Everyone watched intently as the healer, bent over the lower area of Legolas, gently place the pliers around the arrow, so it was gripping it.  Ever so slowly, the healer pulled out the arrow and placed on a silver tray.  He put the tray away as his wife pulled Legolas's trousers down and put balsam, or ointment, over the punctured wound.  The sweet aroma of the balsam filled the room and had greatly calmed the atmosphere of it.  The three watched as Morianas turned the Prince over and softly set the covers on top of him.  They were all silent as Morianas left the room to put the balsam away.  Aravad continued to pace the room, while Criselda lightly stroke Legolas's head, and Caradir just stood against the wall with his arms folded across his chest.  

There was a light knock on the door and was immediately opened by a tall, stern-looking elf.  He was followed by another elf similar to his poise and then the King himself, looking a bit distrait.  He strode quickly to the bed and placed his hand on his son's forehead.  

"Who has done this?" he broke the silence and looked around the room.  No one dared to answer him.  "Who has done this?" he repeated, without a hint of emotion in his voice. 

"I did it, Sir.  I take full responsibility of everything, Your Highness," said Caradir, who now stood up straight and his hands on his sides like a true soldier. 

"Caradir? You shot my son on the bum?" 

"As silly as it might sound, My Liege, I had." 

"But why?"

"It was an accident.  I thought I heard something move in the bushes.  Without thinking or hesitating, I had fired.  It was all my fault." 

King Thranduil thought for a moment and spoke.  "Well, Caradir, you know what must happen now-"

Aravad could not contain it much longer.  "Sir, Your Highness, King Thranduil, Sir, Lordship, it was not Caradir's fault–not entirely.  It was mostly my fault.  I fired that arrow and shot Legolas's ass–er, I meant bum."

King Thranduil furrowed his brows.  "Aravad, you need not take cover for Caradir." 

"Yes, you need not.  You do not even know how to handle a bow, yet alone fire with one," said one of the King's escorts.  

"You would be quite surprised on what I could do," mumbled Aravad, but with a louder voice, she said, "Caradir is covering up for me.  I forced him to give me archery lessons again.  Though it was against your will, Your Lordship, but I do not know what I was thinking.  Caradir refused at first but I had beseeched him till he agreed.  I was not aware of our surroundings and in avertedly shoot an arrow towards a brush.  I apologize greatly, Sir, and I swear I shall never do it again. I understand if you do not wish to see me in your House again, as I have wronged you for the umpteenth million time." 

Criselda was glaring at Aravad as she had finished.  The King pondered the situation for a moment.  Aravad hardly breathed and Caradir was still standing like a statue. 

"Well, it seems clear to me that no great harm intentionally or accidentally was done to my son, though I am quite disappointed that this had occurred."  He sighed and continued, "Aravad, I for one, am severely disappointed at you for breaking the rules yet again.  I had told you twice, nay, many more times that I truly do not want you handling weapons of any kind.  However, you have deliberately disobeyed me yet again.  I suppose I shall punish you.  As I said, nothing of the serious sort has been done to my son, you shall receive three weeks of kitchen duties and you shall help around here in the healer's house, running errands for him, cleaning, and the lot.

"As for you, Caradir, I am disappointed at you also.  As a Captain of a mighty Silvan army, you are entitled to be responsible and dependable at all times.  If you are easily swayed by a she-elf, then who knows what you could do if you were swayed by an orc or a savage.  In the other hand, you have proven yourself worthy many times.  I do not want to you to think that you must save and cover for Aravad at all times, as you will not always be there for her.  I have decided to put you on probation till further notice.  That means no moving without your commander's permission, understood?" Caradir nodded. "All right, Captain, return to your post.  Aravad, your punishment starts tomorrow.  Now go to your chambers and rest, for you must start early tomorrow."

Aravad bowed low and started to walk out of the room when there was a noise and Criselda stood up.  

"Your Highness, that is it?  That girl nearly killed your son! She should be punished severely! She hates Legolas and we all know it.  Why not banish her forever?"

"Are you undermining my decisions, Criselda?  As far as I am concerned, I am the King and you are a Lady.  Now, go to your chambers and leave me be with my son for a moment.  That goes the same for all of you."

  _"Ohhh...Harsh." _

*          *          *

(Frodo:) It had been more than a week since the accident, and Aravad and Caradir were still under their respective punishments.  Everything seemed ordinary again in Mirkwood, though it was apparent that all the citizens, mainly the females, had found out about Legolas and flocked to the Healer's House to visit him or send him flowers or the like.  The Prince obviously had enjoyed the attention and despite the fact that he was already well, Legolas continued to pretend he was still injured.

Meanwhile, Aravad had developed callouses– **(Back to reality for a moment)**

 _"Unky, what are callooses?" asked young Faramir, sitting up from his bed.  All were quiet.  Young Frodo got up from his bed and whispered in Faramir's ear.  Faramir's face grew wide with disgust.  "Eww...Disgusting, Unky." ___

_  "Exactly," replied Young Frodo firmly.  ___

(Back to elf land)

(Frodo:) Aravad had developed several huge, hard..._"Unky stop!" erm...callouses on her hands from her kitchen duties.  According to the King's orders, she was to "help out within the kitchen halls as she can," but the head of the kitchen also despised Aravad without any reason and took matters to her own hands.  Aravad was ordered to wash all the utensils, dishes, pots, pans, and so forth, scrub the Great Hall's floor, and set up (and clear away) the table for the meals.  After she had done these jobs, she was to go to the Healer's House to run errands for the Healer._

  _"Wow, that's heaps of punishment to do. One time I set a bunch of bees free at ol' Tommy Longfoot's yard when he was pruning his gardenias, Mama made me scrub every window in our house," said the young Frodo sadly.___

_  "Well, if you do the crime, you do the time," remarked Rose sternly.___

_  "When I ated all the honey from Mama's cupaboard, Mama maded me go to my room and maded me skipped dinner.  But Papa camed in my room later and gave me food," said Faramir, with a grin playing at the corners of his lips. ___

_  "Nobody could be as bad as you, Faramir," said Elanor.___

And Criselda, whose anger and hostility towards Aravad grew ten times worse after the incident, was "coincidentally" ever so present to torment Aravad miserably.  Whilst in the middle of her scrubbing pots or sweeping the Great Hall floor, Criselda and her group of friends would be around to drop an insult or two or three or four...Well, you get the idea...

One day, when Criselda felt particularly hostile, she went to one of the kitchens behind the Great Hall where Aravad was peeling potatoes for the night's supper.  She walked in with her usual air of haughtiness and grace.  She headed to the baskets full of fruits perched atop the stone counters and started to pick fruits to give Legolas.  Careful not to be caught, she looked around to see if anyone was in the kitchen but only found a very exhausted Aravad in the corner next to a wooden table and a bucket in front of her peeling mounds and mounds of potatoes.  She snickered to herself and smiled wickedly.  She could not resist such temptation.  Quickly hiding the fruits in her belt around her waist, she strode towards Aravad.

"Well, well, well, look who had come to realization on what she truly is," drawled Criselda.  Aravad did not answer.  Criselda saw this as an opportunity to go on.  "If I were you, Aravad, which thank the Valars I am not, I wouldn't stick myself to where I am not wanted.  It is no use wasting your time trying to prove something that no one will care about." 

Aravad tried hard to ignore the drawling voice of Criselda and concentrated on the potato skins.  However, she could not.  Tiny beads of sweat formed on her forehead and rolled at the sides of her face as she peeled faster and faster.  

"Just accept the fact that you are just a stray that landed on the King's lap," Criselda chuckled.  "Forever going to await next to him and feed from his scraps that fall from his table.  And if you're lucky, he might even keep you permanently!"

Clunk.  Aravad dropped her knife and potato.  She looked up at Criselda; her eyes flashed daggers.  "I am not a stray," she said through her gritted teeth.  "And if I was to be compared to one, I know I work for the 'scraps' that are fallen to me.  Not like some _full-bred _who just take whatever she likes even if she had not worked for it or even had the decency to ask." With that she got back to her potatoes, and leaving Criselda standing there, dumbstruck.

"Surely you are not talking about me."

"If the glove fits, then wear it." 

Criselda's lower lip twitched a bit.  She turned on her heel and quickly marched out of the kitchen, leaving Aravad smirking slightly to herself.  __

 *          *          *

A light, cool breeze blew into Aravad's face as she stood outside an old Elvish lookout atop a tree.  The lookout was made out of toughest wood (like everything else in the kingdom), could only fit one or two person and was used to welcome or inspect the incoming travelers that entered the forest kingdom.  Since the kingdom had expanded, it was no longer in used and became part of the King's Royal Garden (where Legolas and Aravad studied).  This was one of Aravad's favorite places.  It was small, secluded, and on top of a tree that surely no one would ever spot her.  She leaned against the railings of the balcony and let the wind cooled her face as she watched millions and millions of stars that twinkled in the night sky.  She was incredibly exhausted with all the cleaning, cooking, and scrubbing she had to do.  Not to mention all Legolas's fake moaning of pain and exaggerated accounts of what really had happened that day he got shot by an arrow.  Some versions told of a dozen hunting orcs came and rushed to attack him, whilst others told of a ring of endless power that had been dropped into his lap and was told by the wisest elves to protect it from vile creatures.  However, all versions seemed to lead up to Legolas single-handedly killed all the evil things while only had one wound–the one on his bum.  While Legolas told his daily visitors about his "heroic" occurrence in the woods, Aravad had to endure the temptation to poison his drinking goblet or just stab him with one of the bedpost.

She heard something stirred in the nearby brushes.  Her ears pricked for another sound, but there was none.  Finally, she straightened up her gown and turned to leave the lookout when a pair of illuminating silver eyes staring down at her.

She let out a shriek.  A pair of hands grabbed both of her elbows.  "Aravad, wait, it's just me, Caradir."

She stopped wriggling and finally recognized the eyes and voice.  "Caradir! You gave me a fright!"

"I am truly sorry.  I have been looking all over for you.  What are you doing, anyway? Planning to become a Royal Guard?"  Since he found out that his probation would be lifted in a couple of days, he had been friendlier and became more of himself to Aravad.  Aravad took this as a sign that Caradir had forgiven her.    

"I am just getting some fresh air.  Working at the kitchens can be very stifling."

"Hmm...Yes, well..." trailed Caradir, not knowing what else to say.  They both looked out from the balcony and saw a couple entered in the glade below them.  The couple did not notice that they were not alone in the glade as they walked hand in hand.  Both shone brightly against the moonlight and seemed to have given a soft light to everything that crossed their path.  They had stopped at the tallest tree in the glade and stood there facing each other–truly sharing a lovers' night of romance.  Aravad scowled, she recognized them immediately–

 _"Criselda and Legolas!"___

_  "I could not have said it better than myself, Rosie!" giggled Elanor.___

_  "Girls..." muttered young Frodo under his breath. ___

"I can't even begin to start on how I loathe both of them so much," said Aravad with a voice dripped with disdain. 

"Don't say that-"

"But I do!  I mean, they make my life more miserable than it already is," she grunted.

Caradir chuckled uncomfortably.  "Miserable?  No elf is ever miserable, Aravad.  Perhaps the only misery you feel is hatred you yield on them.  If you try really hard to ignore Criselda and Legolas, then you would be a lot happier."  Aravad gave me a repressive look.  "Well, at least you won't be thinking of them anymore..."  They were both silent for moment.  Caradir racked his brains in an attempt to revive a more animated conversation with Aravad.  As if a light bulb–

 _"Uncle, what's a light bulb?"___

_  "I don't know...It seemed like the perfect word to use.  I do not even know what it is."___

–light bulb lit on top of his head, he came up with a perfect topic to talk about.  

"Aravad!  I just realized that your day of birth is just a week away.  What are your plans for that day?  I am certain that you are very excited, are you not?"

Aravad scoffed.  "Excited?  More like dreading it.  How convenient that it is on the same day as the Prince of Mirkwood's day of birth!  Everyone in the whole of Mirkwood will be rejoicing and celebrating for him.  As for me, I'll be cast aside to be greeted by the people who would care enough to know that I exist."  Not bearing to stay and watch the two lovebirds perched benignly at the foot of the tree, conversing and kissing, she turned around to climb down the lookout.  

"That's not true.  I shall greet you, and other people will," he commented as he followed her down the narrow ladder, which could only fit on person at a time.

Aravad scoffed softly again.  "Aye, you and Ludaviel and the King, of course.  That is, if he is not hot-blooded about me anymore."

"It will not only be us, Aravad.  Other elves know it will be your birthday."  He finally reached the ground and jogged to catch up with Aravad.  They strode the opposite direction of the way the couple came in.  

"Nay, they do not," Aravad retorted.  They saw an elf coming towards them.  "Observe this."

The elf was a foot from them when Aravad called after him.  "Good evening, sir.  Pray tell, who would have their birthday a week from tonight?"

The elf thought for a moment and then answered, "Ah, why it's the Prince's day of birth, of course."

Aravad gave Caradir a satisfied look.  "Thank you, sir.  Good night."  And the elf started off again.  

"Did I not tell you?  Some people don't even know I exist."

"That is not the truth.  Besides, that is only one elf.  I am sure you can find one that would know it is your birthday too."

Surprisingly, another elf–a she-elf–came walking their way.  Aravad took this as a sign to conduct her experiment again.  "Excuse me, milady, good evening.  Pray tell, do I look a bit familiar to you?"

The she-elf squinted her eyes at her.  "Hmm...Are you the nice little elf who sold me all those cookies and baked goods for half their worth?  Oh, they were quite delicious.  Not to mention scrumptious!"

Aravad furrowed her eyebrows.  Caradir fought hard not to laugh out loud.  "Nay, I do not know what you mean about cookies or baked goods.  But can you tell me who shall celebrate his day of birth in a week?"

"No doubt it shall be the Prince of Mirkwood, dear.  Don't you know that?" said the she-elf.

"No one else's?"

"Of course!" 

"All right then, thank you."   

She turned to Caradir, who frowned.  "So that is two, not the whole lot of Mirkwood.  Why do care so much about people knowing that it is also your birthday, anyway?"

"I do not care," she grumbled, kicking a pebble and started off again.  "I just simply what to get into your head that I hardly exist in this forest."

"And?  What of it?" asked Caradir, a bit confused.  "Being popular is not all that its cracked up to be, Aravad.  Just like the King, he's famous, but he has a lot of responsibilities."

"Look at Legolas, he seems to be enjoying the limelight."

"And so he is.  But must you compare him with you all the time?"

"Why not? Everyone always does.  I am just tired of being cast aside like some grubby old cloth.  I want to be known as someone special too.  'Tis not about popularity, 'tis about being accepted.  After all, I never have been yet.  It is sort of a wish for me.  I'm still waiting for that day."

Both of them remained silent most of the way to Aravad's chambers.  Caradir could not find the words to tell his friend so he had quieted.  Aravad wished to be left alone with all her thoughts till she reached her bedchamber.  As they reached the steps that led towards it, Caradir, who's always the gentleman, stayed at the bottom of the steps and bid her a goodnight.

"Just remember, Aravad, it is not up to everyone to accept you.  It is up to yourself who can accept you or not," he paused and then added, "Not many people might care for you, but it is the quality not the quantity that counts."

He bowed lightly and waved farewell before turning to disappear in the darkness. 


End file.
